Thirty Days Too Long
by Shattered-Rayn
Summary: Cid Highwind is called away for the job of his dreams. But when it means he'll be away from the one person he truly loves for a month, can he take it? Valenwind
1. Chapter 1

Okay...I know the last thing I need to be doing is starting another story, but it happened. I blame winter break! Anyway, little bittersweet Valenwind where they're separated for the first time in a year. And to make it worse? It's for a month. But...things happen and I'm not gonna give anything away, so you have to just read to find out what good stuff I've done to them.

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Thirty Days Too Long--Chapter 1 

A thin stream of smoke drifted through the air, swirling lazily around the light overhead. Stars twinkled brightly through the haze, a soft breeze rustling the trees around the outdoor patio. Ashes floated to the ground as the dull red glow was extinguished, the cigarette butt flicked through the air to smack harmlessly against a dark trunk.

Blue eyes closed as a loud sigh escaped the cause of it all, leaning back against the table behind him. It was a fairly nice night, one he would have normally found perfect. But tonight was anything but. Not even the black velvet sky above could relieve his mood like it usually did. No, not when he felt utterly alone.

Sure, he was surrounded by people, some even occasionally sparing him a glance. Physically, he was far from alone. But to him, it was as if none of them existed. Only one person could make him smile right now and they were miles away. Already he regretted answering that phone call.

But it was something he had been waiting on for years; the perfect job for his expertise. And yet, now the prospect of heading the engineering of a full-sized bi-plane while teaching his knowledge just wasn't as appealing as it used to be. When he had been alone, he would have accepted instantly. But now...he had even considered declining, and would have, if his lover hadn't told him to go.

And now that he was here he felt lost. The past year had changed him, taught him that his love for machines just wasn't a comparison for his love for another person. And while his passion for machinery remained, the sudden loss of that person made him feel... empty.

In other words, Cid Highwind felt heartbroken.

It wasn't as if the love of his life had up and left him. No, it was simply a job that had separated them. But still... it was the first time they had been separated since they had gotten together and it was hard. And this was only the second night. Not even his constant stream of cigarettes could comfort him. And he though he could get through a month? How crazy had he been to ever think that?

Maybe the saying was true and absence did make the heart grow fonder. Either way, he was fairly sure that if his heart became any fonder, it would shatter.

He knew it was absolutely ridiculous. He knew it shouldn't be so hard. It wasn't even as if they were completely disconnected. Mail ran every Saturday and Cid did have his cell phone.

Pulling the device from his pocket, he cursed into the chilly night. Not a single bit of reception. "Well, so much for that," he grumbled, his hand reaching to pull another cigarette loose. His eyes flicked to the clock on the screen. Still an hour. He was supposed to conduct a meet-and-greet with his would-be students at nine. He half-wondered how much these kids knew about what they would be doing. It was fairly a rural town, after all.

Actually, up until a few years ago Gongaga hadn't even been considered a town. Run-down and struggling, it somehow found a second wind after Meteor had been stopped. That had been five years ago. Now it was slowly expanding, almost rivaling his hometown in size. And when it was announced that they would be converting the abandoned Mako reactor into a small factory to produce aircraft, it only seemed natural to ask the now-legendary Cid Highwind to override their first manufacturing attempt.

So here he was, waiting to meet the thirty or so students, fresh out of school, and the fifteen engineers that would be working under him. And all he wanted was to be in his own home in his own bed, not here watching the leaves of the nearest tree wave lazily at him.

"Hey. You know what time it is?"

Slowly bringing his gaze up to the two teenagers standing before him, he shrugged before holding up his cell phone to them. The last thing he felt like doing was talking any more than he needed to tonight. He would be doing enough of that later.

"Eight ten. What time was that thing supposed to be?" The lanky brunet turned to his friend, a shorter redhead. They both looked to be about nineteen to Cid; but then again, he had never been great at predicting ages. He himself was thirty-seven, would be thirty-eight in a little under three months, so he didn't hold too much interest in ages anymore.

The redhead sighed. "Nine. And how could you forget that anyway?"

"Well, sorry," the brunet muttered as he stepped to a nearby table, nodding thanks before he did. Sitting down, he rested his arms on the tabletop behind him and nodded for his friend to join him. "So what's so special about this thing anyway?"

The blond couldn't help but be interested by the conversation. After all, it kept his mind off of... other things. And the look of utter disgust and shock from the redhead was, well, amusing.

"What do you mean by that?" the boy asked loudly, thumping down beside his companion. "You don't know what we're going to this for? Where's your head been? Under a rock for the past week?"

"Yeah, yeah, so I'm not as hyped as you are to go see this guy. Ted something or other."

Another look of disgust. "It's not Ted, it's Cid." The pilot shocked on his breath of smoke. Now _this_ was interesting. "You know, Cid Highwind, the greatest airship pilot ever. Led the entire airship fleet for WRO a couple years back, helped stop Meteor and Sephiroth. The guy's amazing. And not to mention that he's actually coming here to teach us what he knows."

"Okay, okay, so just let the entire world hear about your crush on the guy—"

"Len! I do not have a crush, you freak!" Cheeks flushed, the redhead smacked his friend in the back of the head. "So I wanna actually do something with my life, deal with it. No need to make fun of it! Jeez!"

A laugh popped free from the brown-haired boy as he was punched in the shoulder. "Anyway, wanna go on over there and get good seats so you can drool right on his feet?" Another laugh as he dodged another punch. "Come on."

"Just don't say any more stupid shit, okay?" the redhead growled. Settling back a little, he glanced up at the dark sky. "Wonder what he's like. Bet he's on of those big guys who has tools sticking out of every pocket."

"Whoa, whoa, don't have a heart attack before you even get there." The brunet laughed again, patting his friend on the back.

Glancing down at himself, Cid laughed silently. "Kids these days," he muttered, groaning a little as he stood. Drawing another breath of smoke, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and passed the boys. But something made him pause a little. "Just a hint to ya kid: don't getcher hopes up. That Cid Highwind? First rate asshole, I can guarantee that." Shrugging to himself, he kept on, his ears tuned for a response.

It was the redhead who answered, the shifting of gravel behind him suggesting that the boy had stood. "He is not! If anyone's the asshole, it's you!"

"That's what I just said, kid," he muttered to himself, disappearing into the darkened night.  
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"So Mister Highwind, need anything before you meet them?" The president of the factory, and lead engineer, smiled warmly.

Grounding his cigarette into the sole of his boot, Cid grimaced. "A liter of tequila should do it," he muttered as he tossed the spent butt into the trash.

The man before him chuckled. "We'll get right on that," he joked, closing the door as he left.

"Wasn't kiddin'," the pilot mumbled darkly as he stared at the closed door. He didn't want to be here. Even if he wasn't able to be home, he would rather be at the inn room that had been provided for his month-long stay.

He was halfway through wondering if it would take less than a month to simply walk back to Rocket Town when the president stuck his head though the door. "Ready? They're waiting."

"Ready as I'll ever be," he grumbled, slowly standing and following the man. He reached up for another cigarette, cursing softly when his fingers grazed hair only. That's right: they had asked him not to smoke during this when they had showed him his room and he had subsequently left his goggles behind as well.

He knew he was being courteous, but still... it felt strange without his normal accessories. Sighing, he ran his fingers through his scruffy hair and followed the man into a small meeting room.

Several gazes instantly locked on him, most from the line of semi-casually attired men and women standing along the back wall. He placed them as the older engineers and mentally pulled out the few he figured would be best in getting any information and such. Nodding to them, he gained respectful returns.

The only eyes that turned toward him from the group of youths seated in the center of the room belonged to a redheaded boy, one he placed as the boy from earlier. Sure enough, his friend sat next to him, idly chatting with another young man. However, Cid wasn't the only one to do the recognizing.

"You!" the boy yelped, jumping to his feet. Storming his way through the front row, he stared up at the blond pilot. "You're that jerk from before! What're you doing here? Gonna call Captain Highwind an asshole to his face?"

"Jeffrey!" The president, his face fully flushed, clapped a hand over the redhead's mouth. "I honestly apologize for my son's behavior, Mister Highwind. I haven't the slightest clue what's gotten into him. Please excu—"

"No, let th' kid rave." Both were shocked as the pilot pulled his wallet from his pocket and started searching through it. By now everyone was staring at the scene at the front of the room, completely silent. "Now. Ya had a problem with what I said earlier? I was just sayin' th' truth an' if ya have any sense, you'll listen to someone who knows what they're talkin' about." Shoving a laminated card into the gaping boy's hands, he stepped away to face the room.

"Now that that's done," he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets, "let's get this thing started. Name's Cid Highwind an' I don't care what ya call me. Don't care if it's Cid, Highwind, dumbass, shithead, you, whatever. Just so long as ya listen to what I say an' don't fuck off. 'Cause I'll tell ya right now that I don't deal with that shit an' I'm not a pushover. Try an' push me an' you'll find yourself out in th' street with a wrench up your ass. Got it? Good." Turning, he faced the redhead again. "An' you. Sit your ass down before I make ya. Just 'cause ya think you've got th' guts to stand up to me once don't make ya any different than th' rest of 'em."

Speechless, the youth nodded before stumbling back to his seat, Cid's card still clenched in his hand.

"'Kay. Now. How many of ya are under eighteen?" No hands rose. "Good. Don't like kids much an' definitely don't like workin' with 'em. An' how many of ya are under twenty-five?" Most everyone seated raised their hands, something he expected. "'Kay... anyone over thirty-five?" Only one responded and he nodded for them to answer with words.

"I just turned thirty-five last spring, Captain."

Cid nodded again. So no one was older than him. Somehow he found that as a little comforting. And he also noted how two of the over forty people had already called him Captain. Whether it was just an echo of the years past or something else, he liked the possibility that he would be referred to as something respectful rather than 'that guy teaching us crap'.

A stray hand tentatively rose and he tipped his head toward the owner. "Um... if I may, what was that for?"

Cid glanced behind himself, grabbing a chair and turning it so he could straddle the back, arms folded on top of the backrest. "Ya may as any of ya may. Just don't ask me stupid shit an' I'll try an' answer th' best I can. An' that... that was for personal reference, nothin' more. Now, anyone else?"

The room was deathly silent, most of the people before him simply staring with wide eyes. Huffing loud enough to hear, he ran his fingers through his hair. "Lemme just say this: I'm not here to scare th' shit outta ya. Go to ShinRa and join SOLDIER if ya want that. I'm just here to tell ya what to do, how to do it an' so on. That pretty much puts me as a teacher an' I don't like th' idea of bein' a teacher all that much. I'd rather be on a friendly basis with ya all. So that said..."

"So did you really stop Meteor?"

A blond brow rose. "I didn't do shit against Meteor."

"But didn't you and Cloud Strife and everyone else do it?"

Cid sighed. "Lemme just set th' record straight here. We didn't stop Meteor. Th' planet stopped Meteor. We just hoped our asses off that th' Lifestream'd do it. Which it did. That's it."

"But you helped stop Sephiroth," a voice called out from the back.

"Yeah, a little. But most of that credit goes to Strife. We were just th' backup, really."

"But you flew the ship! Without you and the _Highwind_, they wouldn't have gotten anywhere."

Cid laughed. "Maybe, but that's about all I ever did." Grinning a little, he crossed his arms on the back of the chair and rested his chin on it. "I was just th' transportation, nothin' more."

"Still--"

"All right! Anythin' but that kind of stuff?" he asked suddenly, chuckling a little. To be honest, he didn't like speaking of those events. But to add to it, he didn't like showing his dislike for talking of them even more.

The eldest in the back, rose his hand steadily. "So what exactly will you be showing us, Captain?"

Thinking a moment, Cid nodded. "Well, they're payin' me to show ya how to build a plane, for one thing. Gonna throw in flight lessons somewhere... gotta know how to work what ya make, after all."

"So how long are you here for?"

Cid swallowed, fighting down the want to think to much on the subject. "A month," he said a little softer than normal.

A group of young girls towards the back suddenly stopped whispering among themselves and he raised a brow as the designated one as their speaker. "So, Captain Highwind. They say that behind every great man there's a great woman. True in your case?"

The pilot's mouth ran dry. His hands clenched and from the look on the girls' faces, they knew they had hit a touchy subject. "No. Don't have one."

"So... you're single? I heard you were married."

His face fell and he bit his lip for a moment. "Let's just say I don't like to talk about it an' leave it at that." The smile had left his face, his blue eyes suddenly dull. The last thing he wanted to be reminded of was how alone he was here. "Listen. Anyone else have a question?" No hands rose, much to his relief. "Then... if no one minds, I think I might just head over to th' inn. I'm not feelin' so well. Been a long trip, ya know." Standing abruptly, he headed for the door, leaning heavily against the wall once outside.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he closed his eyes and started walking. A chill ran down his arms when he finally stepped outside, eyes flicking to the stars above. Normally, they would have settled him, made him feel calm. But not tonight. He was fairly positive that the only thing that could do that right then would be warm breath caressing his cheek, hands running down his sides to come back up his chest, a soft voice whispering in his ear and asking for a kiss...

Shutting the inn door, he hurried to his given room, locking the door once he was safely inside. Only then did he let his 'I'm happy to be here' mask fall away completely as he slumped to the bed, pulling out his wallet once more. Taking a deep breath, he tugged a small photo free, his lips curling a little at the sight of the familiar face.

A rough thumb brushed over the smiling face, wiping the freshly fallen tear away. "I miss ya," he whispered softly as his voice broke. "I know it's pathetic... know _I'm_ pathetic. It's only been two days an'..." He laughed bitterly, rubbing the heel of his hand across his face. "Dammit... I wanna see ya. I wanna hear your voice, wanna kiss ya., wanna hold ya..."

Sighing to keep himself from breaking down, he set the photo against his clock on the bedside table. Pulling off his shirt, he gave the picture one last glance before snuggling under the covers and flicking the light off. A sad smile stretched across his lips as he gazed at the moonlit picture, a warm drop rolling down his cheek. "G'night... love ya, Vince..."

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So...what'd ya all think? Seriously, this is pretty much just something to keep me occupied, so I'm not expecting it to be great or anything. Hell, I don't even think it's good. But whatever. I'd still like to hear what everyone thinks. 


	2. Chapter 2

So...second chapter. And it's just a little backstory, in case that doesn't make itself clear later. But...Cid's a slacker. It's a given at times.

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Thirty Days Too Long--Chapter 2

"Shera! Dammit, woman! Where's that goddamned tea?"

"Coming, coming."

The pilot growled, leaning back in his chair. "'Bout damned time," he muttered, watching as she carefully set the cup down on the table. Reaching for it, he nodded toward his current project, a small music box which lay scattered across the tabletop. "So who was it that wanted this fixed?" he asked between quick sips.

"_I_ did, remember?" The brunette woman standing at his side knelt, leaning her head against his arm. "Why?"

"'Cause this thing needs a whole new motor. See?" He lifted a tiny device barely bigger than the tip of his thumb. "Would mess with th' rotors an' tumblers, but they're busted. Whaddid ya do? Drop it from a fuckin' tree?"

Huffing softly, the woman took the motor in hand. "I slipped, if you must know. There was a little soap on the floor and I didn't see it." She set it back on the table once more, shrugging. "So it can't be fixed?"

"Clumsy as always," Cid muttered before shaking his head. "Not unless I can get another motor. Hope it wasn't too important."

"A little," Shera replied softly. "Remember? You gave it to me as a wedding present."

The blond's eyes flicked to the porcelain box. "Oh... right." His blue gaze moved to the plain golden band on his left hand. "Listen. I can getcha another if ya want."

A smile appeared on the woman's face. "That's all right. But thank you for the offer," she said, rising and placing a kiss on his cheek. Dusting herself off, she left him alone again.

Now he just felt bad. Their marriage might have been and still was a joke, but he had still gotten the gift with her in mind. And then he had gone and forgotten about it. Then again, that was what? Two years ago? He wasn't supposed to remember everything, was he? He was lucky to remember when their anniversary was, even if it didn't mean a thing.

Of course, no one knew that. To everyone else, they were a couple. But between themselves, they knew the truth. It was only a marriage of convenience, one to clear her name and one to free him from the leering of the other women in town. Other than that, they were still the same; friends like they had been for years.

Sighing, he picked up the motor again. He couldn't even remember what song it used to play. Setting his tea down, he pushed the cylinder around, a few pings resulting from his efforts. Maybe he could—

"Cid?" Shera's face suddenly appeared around the door. "Did you hear that?"

"Little tingin' sound? Yeah, it was just me—"

"No." She raised a hand, beckoning him to her side. Frowning, he rose rose his chair and silently stepped into the kitchen. "I'm not sure what it was. More of a thump or something."

"A thump."

"Mmhmm." She nodded toward the door. "Like... it was on the doorstep."

Cid sighed. "Prob'bly just kids throwin' snow around. Ya know how they never watch what they're aimin'."

"This late?"

Blue eyes turned on the clock, silently astounded. It was fifteen past one in the morning already? "Prob'bly just a dog pissin' on th' door then."

"And the thump?" Cid was silent, unwilling to speak his guess for the sound for fear of laughing. Shera shoved on his back. "Would you just check? _Please_?"

The pilot stumbled a little, grasping the door handle. "Fine. God. You're bein' such a damned woman about th—" His voice died in his throat as he swung the door open, his eyes widening.

"So? What is it?"

"V—Vincent..."

Shera shoved the blond aside. "Vincent? You mean—" Gasping sharply at the motionless figure at their feet, she halted. "Is that—is he—"

"He's freezin'," Cid hissed as he brushed his fingers over the pale cheeks. Glancing forward, he took notice of the staggering footsteps leading through the snow to the man. "Fuck... he came here himself," he whispered.

"And just collapsed?" Shera was rushing back from the living room, a blanket bundled in her arms. Thrusting it at the blond, she watched as Cid quickly wrapped the crimson cloth- and snow-cloaked gunman the best he could and lifted him. "What should we do?" she asked softly.

Cid shook his head, kicking the door closed once safely inside. "Hell if I know. But whatever we do we'd better do fast. Pretty damn close to hypothermia if he's not there already." His eyes flicked anxiously to the fire. "Go run a hot bath while I try an' thaw him out a little."

A quick nod and she was gone. Cursing lightly at the chill he felt surrounding Vincent's body, the pilot knelt down before the fire and pulled the blanket away. Snow powdered the floor much to his disregard as he unfastened the stiff, crimson cloak and tossed it aside. "Shit... c'mon, Vince. Gotta wake up for me," he mumbled, lightly smacking an icy cheek. But the ebony lashes remained still, snowflakes still resting on them. "Shera!"

"It's ready!" she shouted back, hurrying back to his side. "Is there... anything else I can do?"

"Yeah. Uh, make somethin' hot in case he wakes up. Soup or somethin' easy to eat like that." he replied, once again gathering the man into his arms. The woman nodded as he passed, her hazel eyes worried.

Dropping to his knees beside the tub, Cid rapidly but carefully lowered Vincent into the warm water. Eyes locked on the deathly pale face for any movement, nimble fingers unfastened the black silk shirt, working it off of the slender body. A slight shiver ran through Vincent and Cid bit his lip hopefully.

Quickly he completely stripped the gunner of his remaining clothing, the soaked cloth drenching the pilot's leg as he dropped the water-laden cloth aside. Tearing his eyes away from the still face, his brows knit as he noticed the faint pink tinge the water held. Gaze flicking back and forth over the gunner's body, it rested on the freshly opened gash running from the man's right shoulder to his opposite rib. "Holy..." Brushing his fingertips over the edge of the wound, he fumbled behind himself until he grasped a small towel and pressed it against the pale skin in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

Grimacing, he ran his fingers through the man's bangs, frowning as the water once again flushed red. Stroking the ebony locks, he tried to wash the dried blood from Vincent's hair the best he could. He gave the wound a quick check before dropping the bloody towel on top of the black clothes. "Shera! Can ya bring me a couple blankets? An' make sure th' couch's clear!"

She appeared a moment later as he rose to his knees. Taking one of the blankets she offered, he draped it over his arms as he lifted Vincent free of the water, not caring that the pink liquid was steadily soaking the trailing edge of the cloth. Wrapping the blanket around the gunner, he stood. Nodding, he waited for Shera to move before stepping free of the bathroom.

"Is he... is he going to be all right?" she asked, trailing behind him slowly.

"I dunno," he replied as he gently laid the gunman down, taking the second blanket and tucking it around the frail body. "I just dunno. I mean, th' color's startin' to come back into his skin an' he was shiverin'...so maybe."

"His... that claw thing he used to always have is missing." she stated as she knelt next to the blond and brushed a lock of ebony hair from Vincent's face.

Cid nodded. "I noticed. Might've lost it somewhere. Sure looks like he's been through hell. Half-frozen, hair practically soaked in blood, huge slice down his chest plus a bunch of bruises an' cuts... Wonder what happened?" Sighing, the pilot rested back on his heels. "I mean... it's kinda strange he just shows up like this. He's been officially missin' for a little under a year. Ever since that whole deal with... well, ya remember. But that was th' last anyone heard from him. Till now, anyway."

He narrowed his eyes, threading his fingers through his own hair. "What th' hell happened to ya, Vince?" Standing, he helped Shera to her feet. "Nothin' else we can really do 'cept hope he comes outta it. Too late to get th' doc not to mention that it's snowin' like no one's business."

Shera nodded, stuffing her hands into her pockets before wandering back into the kitchen when he heard her fiddling anxiously with something. Letting his blue eyes drift back to the unconscious gunner, Cid also turned to leave, shaking his head a little. Vincent was always strange, but this—

"No!"

Whirling around, his eyes flew wide as another yell ripped through the air. He instantly dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around the struggling man. "Vincent! Vince, wake up! Calm down, dammit!" Holding the fighting man tighter, he forced the gunman back down to the couch until he was subdued, crimson eyes opening slowly.

A small smile of relief curled Cid's lips and he glanced back to where Shera stood watching anxiously. "Well... he's awake." Turning back to face the gunner, he sighed. "Vince... ya doin' all right?" he asked softly, voice almost inaudible.

Ebony brows creased as Vincent's cracked lips parted. After trying to free a hand, he gave up, pressing his head back against the couch instead. "Cid?" he whispered.

"Hey. Finally decide to join th' livin' world? Scared th' shit outta me, ya know."

Vincent shivered, huddling further into his bundle of blankets. "I—I'm cold."

Cid chuckled, relieved. "No wonder. Just found your ass half-frozen out in th' snow. I'd be cold too." He smiled, the curve fading as the crimson eyes closed. "Vince? Hey Vince, stay with me. Vince?"

But the ebony lashes remained against the pale skin, the gunner's breath falling until it was almost nonexistent. "Vincent?" Cid rubbed his hand against the man's cheek, smacking lightly. "Vincent. Vince!"

"Vincent!"

Gasping, Cid shot up, his chest heaving. Cerulean eyes darted around the darkened room frantically, searching for the ebony-haired man. But he saw nothing except an unfamiliar room around him, sweat-soaked sheets clinging to his body.

A dream. That's all it was... just a dream. Clinging to that realization, he kicked the sheets away and raked a hand through his damp bangs. His breathing was slowly returning to normal as was his heart rate. Taking a deep breath, he fell back against the bed, covering his eyes with his arm. "Not a dream," he whispered. "Not a dream..."

He knew he was right. And as much as he would have liked to say the vision was exactly that, he knew it as it was supposed to be. No... he had simply recalled a memory, one that made him ache. It had been the first time Vincent had shown himself beyond the battle with Omega. No, wait. He had spoken with the girl Shelke first; she had been the last to see Vincent before he disappeared.

Either way, that cold night was still etched in his mind like it had happened five minutes ago. He hadn't even know what had compelled him to take such pity on the gunner back then. Sure, he had saved Vincent. But why had he let the man stay? It wasn't as if they had been the best of friends. If anything, they had been more along the lines of battleground acquaintances. Sure, they had had their times when they seemed to be decent friends, but when it all came down to it, they were just two men fighting for a common cause. That used to be the only thing holding them together.

So why was it that after years of simply knowing the man from afar did he offer up a place for the gunner who had nowhere to go? He still didn't understand his actions back then. Honestly, the only thing he really understood was when he started to see the man in a new light.

It wasn't as if Cid was well-known for having affections for another man. But he had been steadily losing interest in what was being offered to him in Rocket Town. Several women had voiced their desires to be his wife, so to get them off his back, he asked Shera. But that was only because he knew she would say yes and that she understood his reasoning. So he was saved there. But still... he never felt a single thing for the girl, something which he always found a little strange.

And then in waltzed Vincent, someone he had always found himself near and, frankly, somewhat attracted to. Well, maybe attracted wasn't quite the word. He was... fond of the man. He liked the company. Whichever, he was a little confused when he started feeling something more for the man sharing their house a couple months after his arrival.

He had spoken with Shera about it all and had thought she hadn't understood. If fact, she had been downright silent around him for a while. At least until she had gotten Vincent alone in a room to speak with him. To this day, Cid hadn't a clue what was said between them. However he did know that when Shera bumped him into an 'accidental' first kiss with the gunman, he wasn't too worried on the words they had exchanged.

He sighed, rubbing his face. They had been together for almost a year now, safely under the cover of the pilot's false marriage with his assistant. None of them cared; as long as everyone was happy, things were perfectly fine. But now...he was here, miles away from the only person he wanted to see.

"God," he grumbled, reaching for the picture on the table, "why's this gotta be so fuckin' hard? An' why can't th' goddamned phone work around here just so I could hear your voice?"

A sharp knocking interrupted his thoughts. "Captain Highwind?"

Setting the photo back where it was, he groaned and moved to the door. Throwing the lock, he yanked the door open. "Who issit an' whaddya want?" he growled, eyes settling on a green gaze. "You?"

Jeffery nodded curtly. "Yessir. I came to see what the problem was."

"Problem?" Scratching the back of his head, Cid turned and slumped onto the edge of the bed. "Well, getcher ass in here before ya let all th' warm air out."

The redhead nodded quickly, stepping inside and closing the door with a click. "Well Captain, you didn't show at the first assembly. It was at eight this morning, remember?"

"'Course I remember. An' whaddya mean I'm late?" His eyes flicked to the clock. "Only seven, kid."

"No. It's," Jeffery paused, checking his watch. "It's ten past nine, Captain. Your clock is probably still set to the time back in Rocket Town."

"What?" Cid frowned, reaching to grasp his clock and knocking the photo from it's place. "Shit," he growled, trying to catch the picture before it skidded across the floor to stop under the boy's shoe. Sitting up quickly, he hoped the redhead wouldn't take a good look a the photo.

No such luck. "Captain... is this you?" he asked, holding the picture up. Cid would have been simply worried if he had said it in a disapproving tone. The laughter hidden in the boy's voice just downright sent him scrambling.

"I, uh... I—"

"You mean to tell me that the illustrious Captain Highwind spends his free time kissing men?" Jeffery chuckled softly as the pilot's cheeks warmed slightly, handing him the photo.

"T—that's none of your business, got that?" he stammered, setting the photo down on the table. "So what if I do?"

The green eyes glittered. "Well. That's interesting. And here I was a little scared of you with all your yelling and such. Not to mention the fact that everyone who was waiting for you this morning all were practically quivering, afraid you were going to set a huge lecture on them for your being late. You're shouting has them terrified, Captain."

While Cid wasn't as much of a people-person as others thought, he could recognize when someone was mocking him. "Listen, kid. I'm not gonna put up with your shit. An' ya give me one reason why me bein' a little different'll change anythin'."

"Because around here, people get made fun of for being different." The boy's tone had suddenly grown serious, something Cid didn't like. "Anyway, just wanted to see what had happened."

Cid sat up straight before leaning down to grasp is shirt and tug it on. "Hey. Why'm I always seein' ya around anyway?" he asked, half simply wanting to get off of the subject. "Not to mention that ya got all pissed when I called myself an asshole. What's with ya?"

Jeffery smiled, sticking his hands in his pockets and rocking forward on his heels. "Thought that was obvious. I'm just a big fan. Look who my father is, after all. I was raised on this stuff, plus hearing about all you've done in recent years. Plus... you might not ever mention your past with the ShinRa Company, but I know about it."

"'Kay, so you're a fan. Well, lemme say this: I don't care. Don't want any fans, so go wave in someone else's face, 'kay? I'm just here for a job and that's it." Tugging his shirt over his head, Cid ruffled his hair a bit before standing to shove his pockets back in. "Look, kid. I don't need a personal stalker, got that?"

"Never said I was trying to be one, did I?"

Blue eyes narrowed heavily as the pilot growled again. "Don't even try an' be smart with me, kid. Just get lost an' tell 'em all I'm not comin' today. I'm... really not feelin' too well right now."

"Homesick, right?" Jeffery smirked a little, nodding toward the bedside table. "You miss him. It's understandable. After all, you probably love him, huh?"

"What kinda question is that? Of course I love him!" He scowled at the redhead before sighing. "Whaddya want, kid?"

The boy shrugged. "Nothing. You really want me to leave?" The blond head nodded firmly. "All right. But, if I may throw out a little advice... the best way to forget it hurts so much is to go out and have fun." He smirked again and turned to leave, halting before he closed the door. "Oh yeah. About this," he fished the card he'd been handed the night before from his pocket, "why is it that your driver's license has been expired for two years?"

"Because. I'm a pilot, ain't I? Whaddo I have to do with driving?" he responded, shutting the door in the redhead's face and locking it tightly before going to collapse face-first on the bed. His eyes closed in his attempt to block out the world, if only for a little while.

* * *

Yup. Chapter two. That's it. Sorry they're so short, but well...they don't wanna be any longer. So yeah. Reviews welcome and seriously appreciated. 


	3. Chapter 3

I really should have had this up earlier since it was placed in my documents at the same time as the first two... but time caught me and it's been sitting here. Lonely and sad... poor chapter. XD Anyway, bringing up once again how miserable this all must be and by doing the worst thing possible: enter phonecalls.

* * *

Thirty Days Too Long-Chapter 3

"Mister Highwind! Hello up there!"

Blue eyes flicked to the man to the left before moving on to the woman on the right. Sighing, Cid shrugged and stretched out across the wing, letting his blond head dangle over the edge. "Who's callin'?"

"Ah! There you are!" A bright smile reached him as he picked out the plain-clothed man below. "I was wondering if I could speak with you."

The pilot inwardly groaned. He was busy and certainly didn't feel like chatting it up with the man. Not to mention that his son was probably ready to pounce as well once he touched the ground. He was starting to think that the entire family was stalking him. If it wasn't Jeffery, it was his father begging for his attention. And it was downright tiring. _But maybe I should humor the guy. He does sign my paychecks after all._

Glancing around himself again, he smacked a hand lightly against the metal. "Ya guys got this?" The two nodded, barely looking up from their work. "Good. Just... Brendan?" The man looked up. "Try not to screw that panel too tight. Took me a damn hour tryin' to get th' last one off."

Stuffing his own phillips into his back pocket, he swung himself around, feet setting firmly on the ground as he let go. He turned quickly, dusting off his arm as he did. "Need somethin', Mister Salizar?"

"Oh, I was just wondering how things were going and all that." The man smiled again, his gaze passing over the half-completed plane. "Fast work there."

"She's only a bi, sir," Cid mumbled faintly. But in all honesty, everything was going faster than he had thought it might. The younger bunch had needed a good bit of instruction on exactly what they were doing, but a quick run through with the elder engineers turned out several who were willing to help explain things. And the fact that the work was good, better than he had expected, was just an added bonus.

"Oh, please. No need to have those formalities here. Just call me Wyath. But she's a bi?" The man frowned a little.

_In that case, why not remember that I have a first name also?_ he grumbled in his mind. "Yeah. She don't look it yet, but we're just makin' sure everythin's goin' fine an' all. Gonna switch th' crews for th' second set an' th' detailin'. That way they get a taste of everythin'."

Wyath nodded, seemingly pleased. "Sounds good. So when do you think she'll be done then?"

"When?" Cid paused, scratching his neck. "Maybe another week. Maybe less. Just depends on if we keep up this rate when we switch, ya know. An' weather permittin'."

The man at his side frowned again, green eyes passing over the plane once more. "Weather? But this entire project is inside. What does the weather have to do with anything?"

"Has to do with everythin'," Cid stated with a sweep of his arm. "Shit. How many people ya think are gonna get up an' trudge through a snowstorm to come here?" The man didn't answer, not that Cid had expected him to. "Tell ya one thing: those that do? They're not gonna find me. Can't stand snowstorms, 'specially when they're sleet an' shit like that."

"Good point," Wyath muttered softly.

"So was that it?"

"Huh? Oh, no. I was also wondering if you wouldn't mind joining us for supper tonight."

Cid could have choked. _Great. Perfect chance to meet Mrs. Freak. _"Sure, don't see why not," he said, slapping a fake smile on his face. In reality it was the last thing he wanted to do tonight. But seeing as how he hadn't exactly shown up as expected during the first few days, he figured he was due for a little sucking up.

"Great! So we'll see you around six then?"

The pilot nodded. "Sure, yeah. Six." Waiting for the man to turn away, he mentally and physically smacked himself for even answering the man's first call.  
-

"So. I've heard some wonderful things about you from both Wyath and Jeff. What is it that you do that stuns my boys so much?" The woman across from Cid smiled, propping her chin in her hands. "Just wondering what all the fuss is about."

"Believe me, I'm not worth any fuss," Cid replied softly, taking a sip of his drink. "If they're stunned then ya better ask them what it's all about."

"Oh, I'm sure there's something, Mister Highwind."

The pilot's head snapped up. "Just... call me Cid. 'Mister Highwind' makes it sound like I'm married or somethin', " he said with a chuckled.

"Then call me Marrian. But I thought you were married." There was a hint of confusion mixed into the woman's voice as she tilted her head toward his left hand mid-raise.

Blue eyes widened a little until he noticed the glimmer on his finger. He had forgotten to take the ring off. Setting his glass down, he tapped his fingertips against the table, gazing at his left hand. "I am. We're just... sometimes it doesn't feel like it," he said quietly, hoping she would let the subject go. Wyath had disappeared somewhere and the dinner was winding down, leaving him wide open to Marrian's questions. Jeffery simply remained quiet, watching silently from the end of the table.

"Ah. Still seems like it was before the wedding?" She smiled warmly, folding her hands. "Nice, isn't it? To still have that sense that everything is still fresh and new. It's amazing when a love is like that."

"Yeah, sure," he muttered quickly, drowning any further response in a sip of his drink.

At least his attempt to make his dislike of the subject known had worked as he had hoped. The woman nodded, glancing toward the hallway door. "So. What does someone like yourself do?"

_Someone like myself? Oh, I usually gather up a few buds of my kind and we go terrorize the local minimart_. "Not much. Haven't done much at all recently 'till I came here."

Her brows rose a little and he sighed, deciding to continue only as an attempt to keep some sound bouncing around. If being alone in a strange town and having a social dinner were at the top of his 'most hated' list, then dealing with awkward silences was fighting to stand beside them. "Usually just engineerin', mechanical shit... sure ya wouldn't be interested."

But she gave him the 'please continue' nod. Either she wasn't letting him off the hook or she hated silences as well. "Built a couple airships. 'Course planes. Automotive work... pretty much everythin'. If it's broke, I'll fix it or mess with it 'till it is." He shrugged a little, leaning back in his chair. "Usually messin' with somethin' or other in my free time anyway," he added, taking another sip of his drink.

"And the occasional man," Jeffery muttered, smirking as Cid suppressed a choke.

Marrian glanced from her son to the glaring pilot. "What was that?" Cid sighed. At least she hadn't heard clear enough to understand her son.

"I asked if I could have some more ham," the boy said, smirking again as Cid reached over and handed him the plate, a death glare set into the blue eyes.

"Here we go!"

All three looked to where Wyath had burst through the door, a bottle in his hands. "Took me a while, but I found it," he stated with a grin, setting the heavy bottle in the center of the table. "Best alcohol money can get. Pure Wutain, high proof... good stuff, I tell you," he beamed proudly.

"Wyath! What have I said about having that around Jeff?" his wife hissed, picking the bottle up just as Cid had set his heart of pouncing for it. "He's underage for gods sakes!"

"Mom..."

"Oh, let the boy have some fun. He'll be twenty-one in a few weeks anyway." Snatching the bottle back, he twisted the cap off and wandered over to a cabinet. Pulling out four glasses, he filled one and raised it in Cid's direction. "Besides, Cid Highwind is at our table. We treat guests well, don't we?" Smiling,he offered it to the pilot as Marrian sighed, defeated.

Noting that the others were waiting on him, Cid took a quick drink. "Good stuff," he said, taking another gulp. "Got a kick to it, that's for sure."

"Exactly." Grinning, Wyath poured out three more glasses, laughing a little as Jeff grimaced at the taste. "Strong, huh?"

"Sure as hell is," Cid muttered, downing the rest of his. "Shit... I've needed that."

"Been a rough week, huh?" Wyath quickly refilled the blond's glass, setting the bottle down. "Heard you weren't feeling the best at first. Finally get settled in and everything?"

The pilot nodded, taking a slower sip this time and savoring the warmth rushing down his throat. "Yeah. It was a little tough, but... things've gotten better."

"Glad to hear it. Can't even begin to tell you how happy we were to hear you had accepted the job. We weren't sure what we would do if you declined." The man laughed as he sipped his own drink.

Nodding just to show he was listening, Cid finished off his second and gave himself a generous third helping. Raising the bottle questioningly, he took another gulp.

"Ah, don't worry about it. There's four more where this one came from. Almost forgot about that crate down in the cellar." Waving a hand, the man slumped down into his chair. Pushing his dishes away from himself, he produced a pack of cards from his pocket and lightly smacked it down in the center of the table. "So. Who's up for a little game of gin?" he asked, grinning.

Downing the remains of his glass, Cid accepted a fourth refill. "Now you're talkin'."

Wyath's brow rose as he removed the pack, shuffling quickly. "Don't do this often then?"

"Not really."

"Wife doesn't like it or something?"

The blond's head shook, half as an answer and half to ward off the slight rush he was getting from the alcohol. He hadn't had a single drop recently, not since about a month before the trip here, and now he was practically guzzling the stuff. Nevertheless, he didn't object as Jeffery took up the bottle and offered to top his drink.

Marrian's hand appeared in his vision and he glanced up, smiling as she took his dishes away. "What? Not joinin' us?"

"No, I figure I'll let you boys do whatever damage you will. I don't want to get involved," she said with a slight chuckle. "But in all honesty, you may have a time getting back to the inn with what the weather's looking like."

Wyath's hands paused, the deck split between them. "What's that mean?"

"Well," she started, taking a card and tapping his forehead with it, "it means that it's snowing rather hard out there. And from what I heard, it's only going to get worse until tomorrow. And the inn is on the other side of town."

Cid's gaze dropped to the table. "That bad?"

"Well, you're welcome to spend the night here if you want," the man offered, raising his glass a little. "Granted, we don't exactly have guest room, but there's an extra bed in Jeff's room. I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing."

It was hard for Cid not to turn down the offer right there. But he swallowed, smiling uneasily as a beaming redhead passed him. "Sure... if it's too bad to get back when I leave."

"Plus you've had quite a lot of that in a short time," Marrian pointed out before disappearing into the kitchen.

He had hoped, though rather blindly, that they would somehow pass that detail by. No luck. And he had to admit that he was feeling a little hazy.

Groaning inwardly at the prospect of having to spend the night with the boy, he pulled his phone from his pocket. With any luck, it was already late meaning he would spend most of the night in this room. But instead of the regular numbers he had expected, a message was waiting for him, proclaiming he had a new voicemail waiting. _Voicemail? Didn't know I'd set that up yet._

Shrugging, he quickly checked the number: unfamiliar. But it was a small distraction at least. "Uh, guess I missed a call. Care if I check it quick? Might be somethin' from home." He honestly doubted it since the phone line back home had been disconnected for a while now. They had done it to stop all the less important calls that were quickly outnumbering the important ones. Then again, it wasn't hard to outnumber none.

"Sure." Wyath paused from his dealing to motion toward the front door. "The foyer's fairly quiet if you want to take it there," he offered.

"Uh, thanks." Taking the last gulp of his drink, he made his way to the indicated room, punching in the right numbers. Sure enough, his own voice reached him, a little unsteady with talking in the background. _Probably set it when I was drunk of something_, his mind grumbled.

"_Cid?_"

He froze, the sound of the deep voice making him tremble a little. He wanted to say it was simply the alcohol making him a little shaken up, but that would have been lying.

A soft sigh filled his mind from the speaker. "_Guess I caught you at a bad time. I thought I would just call and tell you that Shera had the phones reconnected._" A soft laugh. "_She was worried something might happen and there would be no way for you to contact us. I told her she was being ridiculous, but... you know how she is._" Another sigh, heartbreakingly quiet. "_And... I guess I just wanted to hear your voice. It's been a little over a week and I haven't heard from you, so I thought I would just try and call... but, well..._" The gunner's voice faded and Cid bit his lip, slumping against the wall. The long pause was beginning to make him think that was it, but yet another soft sigh made him smile with saddened relief. "_I miss you, Cid_."

The whisper was almost nonexistent, but just loud enough to tear at the pilot. Slumping even more, he let himself slide down the wall until he felt the thankfully steady floor beneath him. "_I miss you... more than I thought I would_." A tiny laugh reached his ears , but he heard the subtle sounds placing it as a laugh to cover anything else. "_I love you and... I hope to talk with you soon_."

A final tone sounded, signaling the end he didn't want to come. Snapping the phone shut, he let his hand drop, running the fingers of his free hand through his hair and pressing his palm against his face. But it still didn't stop the tears from breaking free and slipping down his face, the whispers echoing through his mind.

"Captain? Are you okay?"

Before he could even think of what he was doing, he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Hands gripped his shoulders and he forced himself to look up. Green eyes watched him with concern. "Cid?"

Looking away, he pushed the redheaded boy away. "I'm fine. Just—there was somethin' in my eye," he muttered, pressing the heel of his hand against his eyes. "I just..."

"It was him, wasn't it?"

He suddenly found himself fighting not to break down in front of the boy. Clenching his hand into a fist, he pressed it harder against his face and nodded. "I—fuck. I—I'm sorry for this. I shouldn't be doin' that an—"

"You know, if you want to call him back, there's a phone in my room."

The pilot's head shot up, staring blearily at Jeffery. "But—"

"Don't worry. I'll just tell Dad you were feeling a little sick or something. It'll work with the way you were throwing back those drinks. Plus, I think I can keep him busy enough."

"But—why?" he forced out, a little surprised at the boy's sudden change in attitude yet again.

Jeffery sighed, standing. "Let's just say that I know what it's like to miss someone that bad. And... let's face it. I probably need to make up for being such a jackass from the start. I really don't mean it. I just do it to everyone." Cid took the boy's offered hand, staggering a little as he stood. "And my room's down that hall, just so you know. Last one on the end."

The blond head nodded, his eyes flicking down to his hand which still gripped his phone. "Thanks," he whispered softly.

"No prob. Let's just say I was starting to wonder if you were always such a hard-ass." Grinning softly, he turned the pilot in the right direction. "Glad to see someone like you is exactly like the rest of us. In other words, glad to see you're just a normal guy."

Cerulean eyes watched as the redhead flicked a wave and disappeared into the hallway again where he could be heard starting a conversation with his father. Glancing around the room once more, Cid clenched his hand more and started unsteadily toward the boy's room.

Carefully flicking on the light, he glanced around the room. It was fairly normal, the pictures and hangings even bringing a small smile to his face, especially the hand-sketched blueprint hanging lopsidedly near the bed. But the smile didn't last long as his gaze landed on the phone.

Hurrying to the bed, he sat down and picked up the receiver, his fingers trembling a little as he dialed the number saved on his phone from the call. He desperately hoped it was the right number. But if it hadn't been, wouldn't Vincent had said the right one?

At least it was ringing.

And ringing. He felt his heart sink as the sound continued. Maybe it wasn't the right one. Or maybe it was and Vincent just wasn't home. Either way, he kept listening, sure that something would change soon.

And it did, just not the way he was expecting. His heart sank even more at the realization he was hearing Shera's voice and it was a recording.

"_Hello. This is the Highwind residence. It seems we weren't able to reach the phone so if you'll leave a short message and a way to reach you, we'll get back to you as soon as possible. Bye!_"

He shook his head, smiling a little. He had to admit that it was nice to hear a familiar voice. But still... it wasn't the one he wanted. He took another breath, the beep fading. "Well... guess I caught th' bad time this time. Or... somethin'." He paused, trying to find something to say that didn't make it seem as though he was falling apart. "Just got Vince's message an' thought I'd check in. I'm kinda borrowing someone's phone, but I'll try again lat—"

"_Cid!_"

He gasped, the phone slipping from his hands. Fumbling for it, he jambed the receiver against his ear. "V... Vince?"

A relieved sigh reached him. "_I thought maybe I had been too late and you had already hung up_."

"No." Cid chewed on his lip, trying to fight down the giddy feeling in his stomach. "I, uh, I dropped th' phone."

"_So like you_," Vincent said through a soft chuckle.

"Vince? Ya sound outta breath. Ya all right?"

"_I'm fine. I was just outside when the phone rang. Almost missed it._"

Cid frowned. "Outside? Ya mean you're not stuck in a snowstorm there?"

"_No, we just got a little. It's actually somewhat nice out right now. At least enough to give Shera enough incentive to get me to do something outside. She says I've been spending too much time inside again._"

"Well ya do have hat tendency," he said softly.

"_Yes... I simply don't have the want to go out. Not when there's nothing there for me_." A pause stretched out and Cid smiled sadly, fairly sure he could listen to Vincent's breathing forever. "_Cid?_"

"Hmm?"

"_I was... just making sure you were still there._" He could hear the faint sound of Vincent swallowing. "_I miss you_."

There were those words again. "I miss ya too, Vince. Shit... I'd give anythin' to see ya right now." He gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "I... didn't know it's be this hard, ya know?"

A sound resembling a light sniff made him wince a little. "_I know. But... it's not for too much longer, is it? I mean... we can make it until... whenever it is._"

"January first." Since when did speaking that out loud make it seem like a lifetime away?

"_Right. It should be... That's not so far away._" Another swallow.

"Vince? Are ya... are ya cryin'?" he ventured softly, cradling the phone as close as possible.

"_Of course not_," came the response, coupled with a shallow laugh.

"Vince... I know when you're lyin'."

A deep breath dragged over the phone. "_Fine... you win._" He heard another sniff and winced. If only he could be there to take the man in his arms, hold him until it was better... "Vince, ya know I don't wanna win unless you're th' prize," he whispered harshly, battling not to start crying again. He was supposed to be the strong one, wasn't he?

"_Cid... don't. Just stop, please._"

"Why?" A soft sob echoed through the receiver and it pained him not to be able to help his lover. "Vince?"

"_Because... You're reminding me of how much I love you. And... And it makes everything hurt so much more_." Warm liquid ran a streak down the pilot's face at the whisper.

"I didn't know it could hurt anymore," he replied, relenting to the quiver in his voice.

"_Neither did I, but... it is. And... _" Cid bit his lip hard enough for a tangy taste to touch his tongue. "_I just don't want it to hurt anymore. I just want to see you, Cid. I love you... and it's tearing me apart._"

Quickly brushing the tear streak away, he shifted the phone a little. "Vince... God, if I could, I'd be there in an instant. Ya know that, right? Th' only thing I wanna do is spend a night lyin' in your arms. I swear, that'd make me th' happiest man alive if I could just see ya smilin' down at me—"

"_Cid, please... I—I can't. I just... I love you,_" he whispered softly. "_I love you and... I hope you come home soon._"

Cid was about to say something more, anything to keep the man on the line, but he heard the sobs Vincent was holding in trying to break free. He himself was trembling, shaking from the tears fighting their way out. "Vince?"

"_Vincent? Vincent, are you okay?_"

Cid started at the second voice, even more so when he heard the gunner's response. "_No... Here, take it._"

"Vincent... " He swallowed hard, the sound of a door closing barely reaching him before a soft voice spoke.

"_Hello? Who is this?_"

"Shera... It's me."

"_Cid!_" A short gasp sounded from the woman and he considered hanging up. His conversation with Vincent had only torn his heart more, made him want nothing more than to fall into the gunner's embrace and simply cry. But it wasn't an option and he figured that the woman deserved something. "_So... how's everything been going?"_

"Okay, I guess... not like workin' with my own crew, but, well, can't be choosy."

"_No, suppose not._" The woman laughed a little, but he could detect the ill-hidden sadness in her voice. "_We miss you. Especially Vincent... It's been hard for him._"

Cid nodded, even though he knew she couldn't see. "I—I know."

"_He watches the window every day. I think he's hoping you might just show up. It's hard to see him like that sometimes._" She took a breath, letting it out slowly. "_He hardly goes anywhere anymore. It's a fight to get him to leave the house... He... _" a loud sigh, one that made her sound tired, "_he needs you, Cid. I'm starting to think you're the only thing keeping him connected to this world anymore._"

Swallowing down the lump blocking his throat, Cid fought to find something to say in response. "I—Take care of him for me, Shera... "

"_I try, but... Cid, I'm not you. I haven't seen him smile since you left, haven't heard him laugh. And he—he's been talking to himself at night. It worries me."_

Cid brushed away another drop as it broke free. "Don't worry about that. Ya know how he is," he said softly, hating the fact that he was simply brushing it away like his tears. In all honesty, hearing that Vincent was once again doing that worried _him_. He had thought that the gunner's demons were finally silent, driven away. Or maybe he was just using them as someone to talk to in the way he used to. But... weren't those days past? He had thought he had filled the man's want for companionship already. But maybe he was just overestimating things. And even if he had...

He shook his head, trying to sort everything out. And when he found nothing would fall into place, he tried to push it all away. "Shera, I have to go. But... tell him I love him an'... tell him to smile. For me."

"_I will, Cid. I will. Just... Come home soon, okay?_"

"Okay," he whispered back, squeezing his eyes shut at the soft click. Setting the receiver back into its cradle, he wiped fiercely at the tears now falling freely. How had he been so stupid as to not know it would end up like that? How could he ever think a simple phone call would make things better? Instead, things felt far from it.

Sure, he had been overjoyed to hear Vincent's voice. But the sound of the man speaking through stifled sobs... that was something he was sure would haunt his mind for weeks. He was the one to cause this. He was the one to make Vincent the way he was. If only he hadn't fallen in love...

_No! I won't—I won't do that! _he shouted in his mind, hoping to drown out his thoughts. _If I hadn't fallen in love... I would have nothing._ Shaking his head again, he ignored the salty drops that flew from his fists where they had gathered.

Forcing himself to look up, he saw the extra bed Wyath had spoken of across the room. He was unsteady as he rose from the boy's bed, staggering slightly as he crossed the room. One foot caught before the other and he stumbled, falling onto the soft mattress. Thankful for anything stable beneath him, he quickly curled onto the bed, holding a pillow against himself. The last thing he remembered through his haze was curling close to the pillow and burying his face into it, letting his tears soak the fabric. And that whisper, those three little words that he missed so much...

"_I love you..._"

* * *

So, yeah. Honestly I should have put this up in the first chapter somewheres or at least in the beginning note for this one, but face it, I'm lazy. So, this is actually dedicated to my muse who's off in school but still inspiring me. And because he makes a much better Vincent than me. So, this is for you, Toystore.

And as always, reviews are appreciated. : )


	4. Chapter 4

Hey all. Sorry for taking so freakin' long on finishing this little thing. I had originally planned to have it finished before Christmas of last year, but as we see... that didn't happen. But, I did make it happen before this year's Christmas, half because I'm back in the state I was when I started this: out in the woods on winter break with no one to distract me from this kinda stuff. XD Anyway, seriously sorry to anyone who's been waiting for the finish of this. I realize this part's a little short, but that's just how it ended up. Also, sorry for how sappy and soft Vincent came out, but... well, separation does strange things to people. That's my excuse. XD

* * *

December twenty-fourth. Vincent stared at the calendar, not believing that it was almost Christmas. Yet it was and he was still alone. Not that he expected anyone to jump to his side because it was the holidays. He knew that Shera had her own life and the one person he wanted there was too far to possibly come. The simple knowledge of that was enough to make him dread the entire day and night, not to mention the next day. 

He gave an audible sigh, one that reflected off of the deathly quiet walls to beat on his ears. Why was it so quiet? He glanced around, not entirely sure why. Never had the house been as silent as that particular moment, not even when he was left alone before for the day. There had always been some sort of sound to keep him company, even if it was just the steady little drip that had started in the sink. But wait… He shook his head, remembering. Cid had fixed that right before he had left saying that he didn't need to find out Vincent had lost it because of some drippy faucet. So he didn't even have that small comfort.

A shallow thump from outside sounded, finally breaking the silence as snow fell from a tree. He glanced toward the nearest window and almost rose to take a look when his eyes fell on the phone, sitting forlorn and forgotten on the bookstand near the door. He had let the object slip his mind ever since the mind-numbing call from Cid weeks ago and now he found himself standing over it and willing it to ring like it hadn't done for a while.

Yet willing obviously wasn't enough. The receiver remained in its cradle, silent as the day they had pulled it out of the closet Cid had stashed it in. A brief spark of thought ran through his mind as he continued staring, wondering why it hadn't rang yet. Cid wouldn't possibly pass up a call on Christmas Eve, would he? Vincent felt foolish wanting just that simple thing, yet he kept on wondering until he felt the start of a headache coming on.

Moving to the kitchen and grasping the small bottle of aspirin they kept just for times like now, Vincent sighed once more. When had he become the sort of man who just longed for another the way he was longing for Cid? When had he lost the strength he was so well-known for, the strength that had gotten him through situations worse than this? Was it hidden inside him still or was it just… gone like the want to deal with even one more day? When had he changed into the person he saw in the mirror across the room and why hadn't he noticed it?

He knew. He knew and just didn't want to admit it. He was the way he was because of Cid and, if given the chance, would trade it for nothing. Yet when it made him feel like the world was caving in around him then he had the momentary thought to change that decision. If he could save himself for the heartache he was bearing now, was it worth not to have had none of it?

A sudden ring made his heart jump, the decision that it wasn't worth it leaping from his mind. His entire being shook as he waited for a second ring, just to make sure it was real. Sure enough, the phone gave another alarm that it had a call, Vincent's hand shaking as it grasped the receiver and lifted it. "Hello?" he whispered, almost unable to breathe.

"_Mr. Highwind. I'm with Junon Insurance Corporate and would like to offer you a special deal that is available for a limited time only. If you would just give us a moment of your time and answer a few short questions then we could be on our way to setting the rest of your life up so it's worry-free._"

Vincent couldn't believe what he was hearing. There he was, waiting on every edge of every nerve for a call that would possibly have him in tears in seconds and he got a telemarketer call that wasn't even for him. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing down his throat the particular shout that he wanted to answer the man with. However, it would do no good, so he held back his breath and set the phone down with a sharp clink instead. They would live if he didn't speak to them. He, on the other hand, just might not make it if he found out he had missed a call from Cid because of them.

Dropping down into the nearest chair, Vincent rubbed a fist against his forehead. He was exaggerating, yes, but he wasn't about to deny that it all felt as if it were true. He would make it if he missed a call from Cid; it would just feel as if it was over. A grimace spread across his face as he forced himself to look away from the phone. It would only continue to eat away at his patience and make him all the more willing to slip up and call Cid himself.

A twinkle of light off to the side made him turn more, his gaze locking on the white lights settled on dark green. He still thought it was silly to have a tree up when no one would be using it, but Shera had insisted until he had helped her set it up. She had done most of the decorating herself since he had kept on saying there was no point, but she finally had settled on one reason that had made him quiet up. "We can leave it up until Cid comes back. I'm sure he'd like to see it up."

He hadn't fought with that, falling ridiculously silent at the mere suggestion of the pilot's name. Instead he had sat down and watched the girl string lights and tinsel on the evergreen branches. He had eventually gotten to the point where he had stood and helped, not wanting the woman to have to do it all herself. Or maybe he just didn't want her to think him so pathetic that he refused to move until Cid returned. He may have, and still felt like that, but he wasn't about to show anyone the weakness dragging him down.

Another wave of longing swept over him and he tiredly shook it off, tipping his head back against the chair. He felt like sleeping through the rest of the night and the next day and not waking until Cid came back. But he knew it was not only preposterous, it was also too much of a reminder of the time he had spent sleeping before even if it was only a day and a half and not thirty years.

A stitch started to grow in his shoulder and he twisted it, trying to relieve it. The tiny thought of moving to the bedroom crept into his mind and he was debating whether to listen to it or not when another ring of the phone startled him into jumping a foot high. His breathing catching, he scrambled to grasp the phone and hold it to his ear, just barely squeezing out a strangled "yes?".

"_Vince_?"

Vincent was sure his heart had stopped at that single word. Fighting to learn how to speak again, he nodded breathlessly, aware that he couldn't be seen except by himself. "C—Cid?"

A soft laugh threaded its way through the phone and into his head, the sound as sweet as honey to his ears. He felt his throat catch, once more dissolving into the person who was so soft for another that he was barely discernable as Vincent. He hated how pathetic he sounded as he returned the laugh, wishing he could be stronger against the separation. He just never expected something so simple to be so hard.

"_So how're ya doin'? Haven't burned anythin' down yet, have ya?"_

Vincent shook his head, once again aware he was doing it in vain. "No, everything's as you left it," he whispered softly, trying to make the quiver in his voice less noticeable.

A sound resembling a sigh melted through his mind, putting a somewhat real touch to things around him. "_Except__you_." Vincent remained silent, not at all sure what to say in return. Eventually Cid continued, his voice as soft as the gunman's. "_I'm__right, ain't I? You're not okay_."

Stinging around his eyes made Vincent roughly wipe a hand over them. He didn't need to start crying now when he had just gotten in touch with the man. "I'm fine, Cid. Really."

"_Vince, we went over this last time. I really doubt you're any better than ya were then."_ A short breath interrupted the voice flowing into his ear, the tones softer the second time Cid spoke. "_If you're dealin' anyway like me, then you're worse off than before."_

Vincent flinched. He was right. And not only was he right, but he was right in that funny little way that Cid was always right, just when it mattered. And that was serving to make every second of silence between them that much harder to break. Yet he finally scraped together the remaining bits of his strength and gave a little laugh. "And I suppose you're suddenly psychic then. As a matter of fact, I'm doing fairly well."

There was a short sound of surprise from the other end, followed by Cid's voice once more. "_That so_?"

"Yes. Shera and I have been getting along well. We even put up a small tree in the living room and decided that our exchanging of gifts could wait until you... come back." Vincent felt his stomach drop as he spoke the words, sealing the fact that they were still days apart.

"_Vince, you guys didn't have to do that. Ya could've gone on an' done it all without me. Ya know that._"

"But it wouldn't have been right," Vincent whispered, suddenly aware that his voice had dropped as quickly as his stomach. "I mean, you're the one who likes Christmas most out of the three of us, so—"

"_Vince…_" A soft sigh threaded its way to the gunner's ears. "_Don't worry about all that. Ya can't place your entire life around me, ya know. Gotta live out there some._"

What Vincent heard almost broke his heart. Cid was telling him to deal with everything alone? Was he crazy? What happened to the soft-spoken, on the verge of tears pilot he had spoken to only a few weeks ago? What had possibly changed to make him go from "I can't stand this and want to be home with you" to "You can deal with it and you can't build a life around me"? Something just didn't ring true in the other's words. "Cid… are you trying to tell me something?"

"_What? No. I just… I can't always be there. Ya used to be all independent. Now you're just sittin' around waitin' for me to call? That's not the Vincent I know. The Vincent I know'd be out practicin' his shootin' to pass the time._"

It was only getting worse. "Cid, if you're trying to give me some sort of hint, just tell me. I don't want to play a guessing game with you, especially right now." He knew the tears settled on his cheeks were obvious in his tone of voice, but that didn't seem to have any effect.

There was a soft scuffling sound from the phone before Cid spoke again. "_Vince, I'm not tryin' to play a game. I just… Look. I—Hey! What the hell're ya doin'?"_

Vincent sat upright, startled. "I… what?"

"_Not you. Hang on a sec._" Some sort of muffled sound filled his ears and he recognized it as the sound of a hand being placed over the receiver on Cid's end. He knew it was supposed to give Cid and whoever he was speaking to privacy, but at the moment he figured they were supposed to be the ones with privacy, not Cid and this mystery person.

He suddenly felt numb as he heard a second voice add in. Maybe Cid had changed and was acting differently because he had found someone else while he was away. He knew it wasn't exactly a Cid thing to do to cheat, but he wasn't about to put anything past the pilot since he was acting so strangely. Eyes locked on the twinkling lights of the tree, Vincent willed himself not to just hang up and go do the same to resent the pilot. But no… he couldn't do something like that. He loved the pilot too much to ever cheat on him whether out of spite or not.

But that only brought up another issue: if Cid was cheating on him, then did that mean the blond didn't love him? He felt a vicious tremor race down his spine as he thought about the possibility. For some reason, the idea of Cid not loving him was even worse that the thought of Cid cheating on him.

Wetting his lips nervously, Vincent let his eyes flick around the room. He was becoming increasingly shaken as seconds flew by and he could still hear the conversation in the background. Taking a trembling yet deep breath, he willed himself to calm down enough to actually listen. There was some sort of mention about a car and the roads being bad, but other than that he wasn't catching much. And that didn't exactly make him feel any more secure about what was racing though his head. Now he wasn't only picturing Cid cheating on him; he was picturing Cid cheating on him and spending days even nights over at this new person's home and needing a ride back to the inn he was staying at. If he was even staying at the inn anymore. For all Vincent knew, the pilot could be all but living with this other person. They could be living together and—

"_Vincent?_"

Vincent jumped, his heart racing. "Y-yes?" he asked hurriedly, trying not to let any of his uncertainty into his voice.

"_Just makin' sure you're still there. Listen, I've gotta go. I had a friend drive me somewhere an' we're here, so yeah. I'll talk to ya later, 'kay?"_

The incredible amount of unsteadiness in Vincent only tripled as he listened to the pilot's words. He had a friend drive him somewhere? He wanted to just yell at the blond and tell him to come clean and explain what was really going on, but he figured that would only cause problems since they were apart. That was something to be saved for when they were in the same place, not miles apart. "A-All right."

"'_Kay. Talk to ya later then. Love ya."_ There was a soft click, even though it sounded to Vincent as if it had been an explosion. He might have gotten to hear a "love you" out of the other, but the way it had been said was almost with… excitement. As if the pilot didn't care if there was meaning behind the words. And the fact that he had hung up on Vincent…

Lowering the phone and staring hard at the receiver in his hands, Vincent found fresh tears quivering on his cheeks. He wasn't even sure what had happened, but he was sure it wasn't good. Cid had called him, told him not to be so dependent, broken off their conversation to have another with someone else, then had hung up on him with little more than a quick and emotionless "love you". He felt confused and extremely torn at what had just happened in the past five minutes. And though he hated thinking about it, every bit of that phone call pointed to the thoughts racing like demons through his head.

The receiver made a loud clanking noise as it hit the floor, abandoned so Vincent's hands were free to press against his face. He felt like he was breaking, every inch of him crying for what he had lost. Cid wasn't coming back, that he was sure of. There was no way Cid would come back for someone as ridiculously soft as him, especially now that he had found someone new.

Pressing his hands harder against his face, he shook his head hard enough to make himself dizzy. He couldn't take this, the thought that he had just been left two days from seeing Cid and with a cheery goodbye to top it off. Probably the worst part of it all was the fact that Cid had acted like before at the beginning of the conversation almost as if he was still upset they were apart.

Tears were quickly overwhelming his attempts to hold them back and he let himself thump back against his chair, wiping his palms across his cheeks roughly. He supposed he had no reason to hold back now that he was off of the phone, but he still didn't want to give in. Somehow he felt that would be like letting Cid win and that he didn't want to do.

He was just about to lose it in another wave of threatening sobs when there was a soft knock on the door, the sound startling him out of his self-induced daze. Catching his breath as quickly as possible, he rubbed the sleeves of his shirt over his face to try and rid the pale skin of the salty drops. If he was going to answer that door, he wasn't going to look like the wreck he was. At least he did have some dignity left in his shattered mind for the moment.

Another knock sounded and he nodded, wiping the last of the tears from his cheeks. Forcing himself to move, he made his way to the door and pulled it open, tugging his thick robe tighter as he did to combat the cold air outside. The fact that someone was at his doorstep so late didn't even faze him as he looked down at the bundled up boy standing there. "Can I help you?" he asked softly, knowing if his voice were to be raised any higher it would crack.

"I'm just making a delivery. Can you sign here for me?" The boy pulled a clipboard out of his coat and handed it to Vincent along with a pen. "Sorry it's so late, but it was pretty difficult getting here."

"You could have waited," Vincent whispered, looking over the paper on the clipboard. It was addressed to him, something that surprised him. A faint thought that it might have come from Cid flipped through his mind and he had to just shake away the entire train of thought before he could decline the package or whatever it was. Quickly he scribbled a signature and handed the board and pen back, pulling his robe closer to him. "Is that it?" he asked as the boy started for the car parked near the front of the house. "What is it exactly?"

"That I can't say. Not like we open up packages and see what's in them, you know?" the boy replied with a little laugh, opening the driver's door and tossing the clipboard inside.

"But what about the pack—" Vincent felt his breath catch as he stared at the car. The back door had opened and a figure had stepped into the ankle-high snow. The boy waved for a moment, calling out to the gunner. "Hope you enjoy your present. I was asked to special deliver it and well, guess it got here in decent condition. Happy Holidays." There was a soft smile on the freckled cheeks and in the emerald eyes framed by flaming hair as the back door closed and he shifted the car into drive.

Slowly he pulled away, leaving a bewildered Vincent on his doorstep, watching the last thing he ever expected to be delivered to him stumble toward him though the snow. Shaking his head, Vincent almost stepped back into the house and closed the door but was stopped by his own lack of ability to move. "C… Cid?" he whispered, the light cloud of his breath dissipating almost instantly.

The figure stopped and looked up at him, blue eyes shining in the faint light from the outside decorations. "Hey, sorry about cuttin' ya off an' all, but… I had somewhere really important I needed to be." He looked down, golden bangs falling into his eyes. "Hope you'll forgive me."

Vincent felt as if every bit of him was crumbling in confusion, anger and most of all, happiness. Before the other even had a chance to speak, he was off of the doorstep and crashing into the most willing pair of arms he had ever known. Whispered words flowed between them, most going unheard, until Vincent buried his face against Cid's shoulder and let himself go. "I thought you had left me for someone else. I thought you were done with me and that was why you were with someone else and you hung up on me. Don't ever do that again…" Arms tightened around him as he heard a soft whisper that made all of his worries and fears fly away in an instant.

"I'm not leavin' ya. I'm never leavin' ya again, honest."

Pulling away and looking into a face that rivaled his own in tears, Vincent gave him a weak smile. "And I'm never letting you leave again. Promise."

Cid grinned in return, almost laughing. "Never sounds perfect right now."

Crimson eyes smiled through a veil of tears as Vincent looked back upon the one thing he had asked for Christmas and had never expected to get. "Yes it does. Yes it most certainly does."

* * *

Finished! Fin! Complete! A.k.a., this story is over. Hope it worked out in the ways people wanted and hope you all have some Happy Holidays yourselves. :) 


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